Hey. If you’re reading this then you might need some cheering up in your life. Maybe you need something that makes getting up in the morning a little more worth it. Or something a little more soothing before work, school, or any other activities that vary throughout the day. Anyway, back to the topic at hand -inspiration, and my tangle with the people of the world.
Ever since my early childhood, my family has always found me a little odd. Not because of really anything out of the ordinary, it was mainly because I was a little shyer than my siblings. When they would openly greet people and shake strangers hands, I would hide behind my mom or dad’s legs and pray that I was small enough to go unnoticed.
This became my regular schedule despite reaching an age where that would be considered a little too much. Even at the thought of being in front of a crowd would send me into a shaking frenzy. My eyes would go big my legs would tremor my stomach would drop. It was like the very thought of dealing with anything like that was something that would put me in the grave. My fear seemed to grow as grew. It took up almost every single last bit of my life. So as you can imagine middle school was a living nightmare.
I’m going to skip any parts of elementary because my mom would warn the teachers of my fear and convince them not to force me in-front of the class for any reason.
But in middle school it was different. I can only assume she thought I was prepared to go through life without aide at this point. she thought wrong in this regard. Every single teacher assumed I was like any other student that had stage fright. That I could do it if they could, but alas that hardly happened. The second I was called tot he fronts I would attempt to refuse. or I would stay still and close my eyes and pray that they ignored me. Like a
T-rex to its prey. But on the more confident days of mine, I would actually make it tot he front of the class. I even at times stuttered out a word or two before my body went through its usual routine. I would freeze, the words on my page would blur, the floor would open up, everyone was nothing but giants pairs of judging eyes peering down at me. I was nothing but as insignificant bug ready to be squashed under their shoes.
Then came the shaking.
Some people would call it seizure-like, others demon possession for a short period of time. I went into overdrive, everything became too much or not enough, I could hear a pin drop in Africa, but someone could be shouting in my ear and they would only pick up static and the occasional mumble. Any attempt to pick me up would result in my body seizing and the shaking to get worse. So I would be left until someone called a nurse or a principle, or a friend to help me off the floor, they had things to present this was becoming a common occurrence. But why? Anyone would think that the teachers would have stopped calling on me, or forcing me to do anything after all of that, and you would be correct. I stopped being called on. Teachers hardly looked at me when I meekly put up my hand to answer questions. surprisingly enough I was the one that persisted. I was the one that told them I was capable of during the presentation, or answering the question or reading out-loud. It was possible, it was completely possible, but only to me. No one else saw that after a period so I became my own hype man. I’d practice speaking in the mirror. I’d practice speaking in my room to my stuffed animals, I’d practice while I was laying in bed half asleep. I didn’t stop and I didn’t quit. Because I had a goal. I wanted to stand in front of a class and give a presentation and finish one. Not even make it half way but to finish one in its entirety.
This took my years, literal years, but there is a reason I started it in middle school because it was the first time I actually did it. It was the very first time I stood in front of a class of people and spoke. This was major. Yes I still shook and I still cried and I still needed to be comforted after but I finished that power point and it felt like the whole world had been lifted off my shoulders. I physically wanted to jump up and down and scream out of pure joy.
(I think the only reason really that I finished the power point was because I made a mistake and said “Koo Koo Klan” instead of “Ku Klux Klan” and couldn’t stop laughing.)
That was my very first step into improving my confidence, social skills, and communicative skills as well. 6th to 8th grade was the dawn of a new era for Timera Gaston and I still roll with it today. Yes, i do still have my downfalls and my bad days but overall I think I’ve down way better now that I ever had in the past, and I know for a fact that if little me ever met me now she would be proud, and we’d fist-bump and I’d show her BTS videos so she could have a head start. What I’m saying is that sometimes you have to fail a lot to make an improvement, sometimes you have to inspire yourself to keep reaching for your goals and sometimes all you need is a little misstep down a cliff to find a pot of gold.
